


Leave my door open just a crack

by Ischa



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-07
Updated: 2011-08-07
Packaged: 2017-10-22 08:45:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/236244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ischa/pseuds/Ischa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sylar gets turned into a kid and Peter has to take care of him. There are walnut iceream, challenging PSP games and sleeping in one bed.</p>
<p>
  <i>“Tell me what fucking happened,” Matt says.</i>
  <br/><i>“No cursing in front of the kid!”</i>
  <br/><i>“Oh for...okay. Just tell me what happened, so I know what I will have to deal with,” Matt says, sitting <br/>down on the couch. Sylar makes room for him silently.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leave my door open just a crack

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Оставь мою дверь приоткрытой](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1016408) by [bfcure](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bfcure/pseuds/bfcure)



**Title:** Leave my door open just a crack  
 **Pairing:** Sylar/Peter  (mostly gen)  
 **Rating:** PG  
 **Summary:** Sylar gets turned into a kid and Peter has to take care of him. There are walnut iceream, challenging PSP games and sleeping in one bed.  
  **Warning(s):** angst, spoilers up to Brave new world.  
 **Author’s Notes:**  Written for the Sylar/Peter promptfest. Title from 'Fireflies' by Owl City.  
 **Word Count:** 2.222  
  **Beta:** asm_z  
  **Disclaimer:** Don’t know, don’t own, not real

\--+--  
~One~  
The first thing he wants to do is to call Nathan, before he remembers and puts the phone aside to just breathe for a minute. He keeps forgetting. It's normal, he knows. He just forgot. It's okay. So he calls Matt. He could have called Ma, but he doesn't think that would be a good idea. Matt isn't either, if he's honest, but the best option he has right now.

“Peter,” Matt says. He doesn't sound pissed off anymore, but a bit surprised. Peter can't blame him. They haven’t spoken for a few weeks now. Not since the whole carnival thing went down.

“Hey, so...Sylar is a ten year old kid now,” Peter says and even for them, for their crazy lives, this sounds totally crazy.

“What?”

“He got transformed? I don't know. I wasn't there,” he answers and knows he sounds bitter, because  
fuck, maybe things would still be normal, or something, if he were there.

“He is a ten year old?” Matt asks and there is laughter in his voice.

“Yes, Matt. Ten. I think he's ten. I didn't ask. He is sitting on my sofa and playing with my PSP right now...I have no idea what to do. Could you just come here and look him over?”

“I'm not a doctor.”

“He doesn't need a doctor, he needs someone who can look in his head and find out what the hell is wrong with him.”

“I know exactly what's wrong with him, Peter,” Matt says. Peter waves it away.

“Matt please, you have a kid, I have no idea what to do!”

“Make him something to eat and...fuck. Yeah, I'll be there as soon as I can, okay?”

“Please, hurry.”

“Yeah,” Matt answers hanging up.

Great, Peter thinks. Just fucking great. It wasn't easy to be with a reformed serial killer, but with a kid?  
“Are you hungry?” he asks. The boy looks up from the PSP.

“Yes,” he answers. The boy has perfect manners; it's kind of creepy to witness, Peter thinks.

“What do you want?” he asks while walking over to the kitchen. He has no idea what children like.

“I don't care,” Sylar answers.

“Okay, I'll just make spaghetti?”

“Okay,” he answers and Peter lets him play with the PSP again.

~+~  
Matt arrives at Peter's doorstep two days later. Peter took sick-leave to deal with the Sylar situation.

“Okay, so let's just get it over with,” he says, entering the living room where Sylar is currently reading a book.

“Sylar? This is Matt, he wants to help us?” Peter says. Sylar puts the book aside.

“You still call him Sylar?” Matt asks.

“It's his name; it's the name he wants me to call him...” Peter answers. Matt nods.

“Tell me what fucking happened,” Matt says.

“No cursing in front of the kid!”

“Oh for...okay. Just tell me what happened, so I know what I will have to deal with,” Matt says, sitting down on the couch. Sylar makes room for him silently.

“We had a situation and Sylar just ran ahead and then things blew up and it was just too f... quiet. I ran inside and found him like this. I think this other guy made him believe he is a ten year old? And the shapeshifter thing did the rest? I have no idea. Just fix him,” Peter says. The last two days were pretty okay, but he still doesn't know how to deal with this kid. That isn't Gabriel and isn't Sylar either.

“Obviously he remembers his name...” Matt says. Peter just nods. “Okay, kid. Now I will poke around in your head a bit; try to keep still, can you do that for me?”  
Sylar nods and keeps very still. Peter would've done it himself, but he lacks experience and yeah, the last time he was in Sylar's head he was trapped in there for years. He just waits for Matt to do his thing.

“And?” Peter wants to know after Matt lets go of Sylar.

“No fucking idea, but it seems to be a block, constructed for a period of time. I think it will pass... and then he will be his charming self again. He has no idea who he is,” Matt says.

“I am Sylar,” Sylar throws in, quietly.

“Yes, of course you are,” Matt answers a bit sharply and Peter gives him a look.

“So, he will remember with time, right? And then...can you try to fix him now?”

“I could, no idea what that would do to his brain, but I could try.”

“No, okay, not an option. When did you became such a sarcastic bas...guy?”

“Around the time HE was in my head, killing people with my hands and fucking my wife,” Matt answers. Yeah, Peter thinks, only fair.

“It will wear off, right?”

“Yes.”

“How long will it take?” Peter wants to know, he has a job, even if he actually doesn't need to work.

“No, idea, weeks at least,” Matt answers.  
Fuck, Peter thinks, because, fuck.  
It's easier that he doesn't remember his mother and all the other stuff he has done, or will do, or whatever. It makes Peter's head hurt a bit thinking about it.

~+~  
He is thinking about school, maybe Sylar needs to go to a school? So he could do some shifts? Might be a good idea.

“So, I was thinking, Sylar, maybe you should go to school?”

“Would you like me to go?” he asks, putting his toast aside so he can speak with Peter. It's so bizarre, Peter thinks. He can't remember being such a polite kid. He and Nathan were always up to no good. Always running around and screaming and playing. Just being kids. Sylar even plays with the PSP like it's an intellectual challenge.

“That wasn’t the question. I think you should be with kids your age,” Peter says.

“Okay,” Sylar answers and waits a few seconds before he bites into his toast.

 

~Two~  
He is a bit panicked as he arrives at the school. He got the call just as he and Hesam finished their shift. He wonders if his mother felt like this every time the school called her.

“What happened?” he asks as soon as he enters the office. Sylar is sitting on a chair with a bloody noise. “He got beat up?”

“Mister Petrelli,” the woman says, he thinks he should know her name since she's the principal, but he doesn't. He glances at the diploma behind her. Yes, right, Iversson. “Please calm down.”  
He is fucking calm.

“I am calm, I just want to know what happened and why my...why Sylar has a bloody noise,” he says and he thinks he sounds very fucking calm, thank you very much.

“Some kids picked on him and he...”

“I did nothing. Just corrected their mistakes in class...” Sylar says. He looks small and fragile and Peter really wants to hug him, so he does. Sylar resists for a moment, but then sags against Peter's shoulder.

“I'm taking him home now. You better figure this out and punish these kids” he says. He thinks he might sound a bit scary, but principal Iversson just looks stern.

“I will.”

They don't talk much on the way home, but Peter stops at the supermarket and lets Sylar pick up his favourite ice cream. Walnut.

~+~  
He is usually too beat to be up late at night, but it's Nathan's birthday and he can't sleep. Nathan's memory is still haunting him. And that's why he hears Sylar in the living room. Whimpering and maybe crying. He doesn't know what to do, so he does what Nathan did when he had nightmares. He gets up and rubs his finger against the top vertebra of Sylar's neck. Sylar jumps and his eyes fly open at the touch, he knocks Peter's hand aside and sits up, breathing hard.

“Hey, it's okay...” Peter tries softly.

“Sorry...” Sylar says.

“No problem, you had a nightmare,” Peter answers.

“Yeah.”

“Do you want a nice cup of hot chocolate?” Peter wants to know, getting up already.

“I...”

“It's no problem,” Peter says. He learned over the weeks Sylar is staying with him that the kid doesn't want to attract attention.

“Yes, please,” he says, quietly. Peter nods.

~+~  
“I don't like sleeping alone in the dark,” Sylar confesses after the seventh time he woke Peter up with his soft cries and Peter was listening for them, because he had a feeling.

“We could leave the light on, if you like?” Peter answers, between a yawn. He is really tired and should maybe take less shifts.

“No...yes. I would like that,” he says, exhaling a deep breath. Peter really isn't sure he wants to know what the fuck went wrong in Sylar's childhood that he is afraid of the dark and that he doesn't like the colour red. He found the last thing out as he brought home a red shirt for Sylar and Sylar nearly disappeared in the couch with a sob.

The thing is it doesn't really help. Sylar is having nightmares more often than not.

“Listen, maybe...” God, can he even say that? It's normal right? Sylar is ten, a kid, that can't sleep alone and he needs to sleep, they both need to. And it always helped Peter when Nathan was sleeping beside him. A warm solid body that made him feel safe.

“Yes?” Sylar asks and he sounds so fucking hopeful it makes Peter's heart ache.

“You could try sleeping in my bed? We'll just see how that goes? It always helped me when I had nightmares as a child,” Peter answers. He doesn't ask Sylar anymore if he wants to talk about them, because Sylar always blocks his attempts.

“If that's okay?” he says.

“Yes, kid, it is.”

 

~Three~  
Living with Sylar is still complicated. Not like living with the grown up Sylar, but Peter has still things to learn. Like touching Sylar without making his intentions clear is not a good idea, because it makes him jump and shy away. Peter wonders about all these things. About what the hell Sylar might be hiding in his head. There are, of course, all the horrible things he did, but can't remember.

“Switch it off!” Sylar shouts one evening when they're watching a movie. A woman is crying on the screen. Peter switches it off and looks at Sylar. The boy is pale and shaking.

“Are you okay?” he asks which is a really stupid question, because obviously he's not.

“I can't hear her cry...I just...” he sits down on the floor and tries to hide his tears behind his hands.

“It's okay,” Peter whispers, scooting over slowly to him, so he has time to get away. Sylar doesn't. He burrows into Peter's side and cries silently and Peter doesn't ask any questions until later.

~+~  
Peter learns that Sylar likes to play games that make his brain work. He likes chess and is really good at it, but Peter doesn't let him win, because it wouldn't be fair. He likes to read books better than comics and he only plays the strategic games on the PSP.  
His favourite ice-cream is walnut, but he also likes lemon and raspberry, he doesn't like anything with coffee flavour.  
He likes to cook with Peter. Likes slicing things in tiny bites, what used to make Peter a bit uneasy. For all these reasons he doesn't tell Sylar.  
He's sleeping better with Peter in the same bed. His small body snuggling up to Peter, his hands curled around his shirt. Peter really doesn't mind.  
He never thought of himself as someone who would be especially good with kids, but here he is and it all turns out to be just fine.  
Days turn to weeks and then to months and Peter keeps forgetting. Forgetting that this kid is not really a kid.  
Keeps forgetting when they're out in the park, or going swimming or grocery shopping (buying every week something they never heard about before), doing homework, watching documentaries , reading books.  
It just keeps slipping his mind.

~+~  
He wakes early because there is something strange and heavy against his body, pressing into him in a way Sylar never did. He doesn't want to open his eyes. It's irrational, but he doesn't want to face the fact that he lost his child.

“Peter...” Sylar says and it's not...it's not his soft voice. It's not.

“Let me pretend for a bit longer,” Peter answers, without opening his eyes. Sylar keeps silent for a few endless seconds and then Peter feels shifting and the body in his arms is once more that of a ten year old child. “Thank you,” he whispers against Sylar's forehead, kissing it softly. Sylar keeps quiet, but his fingers are fisted in Peter's shirt a bit too hard.

~end~


End file.
